A Fairy Tale Beginning
by Paper Pearls
Summary: Neville realises that although Victoire may look like a goddess, she's just as human as he is. One shot.


**This is my response to OCDegrassi's "Cougar/Sugar Daddy" challenge and mew-tsubaki's "Because of LOVE" challenge - credit to her for the pairing.**

**OoOoO**

"_Because if you just sit down and do what others tell you (like others did most of his life),_

_Then it can't be real love."_

Neville watched her fidgeting with a strand of her glorious blonde hair in an uncharacteristic display of nervousness. It was the first time that he had ever thought of Victoire as anything other than fearless, but occasionally she would show a hint of the girl who had so recently – _indecently_ recently – become a fully fledged adult.

"What are you thinking of?" He stepped closer to Victoire, intending to comfort her, but she swerved neatly around the herb garden and continued to water the plants.

"Nothing at all." Victoire ran her fingers through the leaves, not meeting his gaze. Once she had told him that she found their soft, waxy texture to be soothing.

"You're always thinking of something." It was true. Behind her bright blue eyes lay a wealth of mysterious thoughts and information that most could only guess at.

Since the... connection between them had turned into something more – something Neville was apprehensive to term 'love', because it was ridiculous to think that beautiful, adventurous Victoire could ever reciprocate his feelings – he had thought that over time he had developed a deeper understanding of the young witch before him. Still, there were times when Neville couldn't begin to fathom what she was thinking.

Victoire looked up and gave a wan smile. She was exquisite, even in sadness. It never failed to amaze Neville that one person could be so strikingly radiant at all times. Or that someone who could had ended up with him.

"Mm... I think that I've let you get too close to me for you to believe that I'm a total airhead." Her voice was level, almost perfectly relaxed, and yet Neville got the distinct impression that Victoire was on the verge of tears. Victoire confused him. He didn't know if it was because she was of a more volatile disposition than Hannah, or because she was so young, but there were moments in which Neville longed to understand her better.

"You couldn't be an airhead if you tried, Victoire Weasley." She didn't resist as Neville reached across the foliage and wiped a smudge of soil from her cheek, sighing contentedly as he continued the stroking motion.

"What about a husband stealer or a gold digger?" So _that_ was the problem.

"It was finished with Hannah – you _know_ it was. And you've never asked me for anything, but if you did then I would give it to you." He waited for Victoire to laugh, give a pretty shake of her head and make a dismissive comment about the opinions of others.

She didn't.

"Oh, _Neville_." She groaned, making him feel as though Victoire was older and wiser than him – a strange phenomenon. "I told you that I don't care what people say or think about me. But you... it matters to you."

Finally, Victoire faced him.

It was impossible to lie to her.

"You're right; it does, but not nearly as much as you do." Neville followed Victoire around the flowerbed, hooking one arm around her waist. "Victoire?"

"Are you going to leave me?" Looking down at her, Neville saw that she was perfectly serious. He felt dazed. He loved Victoire – _how could she not know_? He hadn't told her, but then it had always seemed to Neville that his pride was far more at risk than hers. _Perhaps he had been wrong_.

"No. Of course not!" He smoothed her hair from her face in a gesture that he had often found to be calming, and yet it had the opposite effect on Victoire. She lost the remainder of her composure and started to cry.

"I don't want you to leave me, Neville. You make me so, so happy. I _know_ that I'm too impulsive and that I can be selfish, but I don't have to be when we're together. The best thing about me is you." Defeated, Victoire pulled away and slumped against the stone wall of the flower bed. She summoned a trowel and set about digging into a nearby pot with enough aggression to scatter earth over the sides.

Neville stared at her, jaw slack.

Every day he unravelled one more of the never ending series of mysteries that was Victoire Weasley, revealing something wonderful. She was bright, beautiful and more than Neville had ever imagined allowing himself to want.

He tugged the gardening implement from her hand sighed deeply, feeling utterly unprepared to face off against Victoire's anguish. Beforehand, it had seemed to Neville that to even think he could make her happy bordered on madness. He had been terrified, underneath the delight in their new, unlikely relationship, of the day when Victoire would simply leave without looking back. It had seemed impossible that Victoire, invincible Victoire, had feared exactly the same thing.

_How could he have been such an idiot? _

"I love you. I've never loved anyone like this." Neville knew that if he wanted to see her carefree smile again and know that he had caused it then he was going to have to be the brave one. He felt nervous as Victoire turned to look at him, her expression doubtful.

"What about Hannah? She was your _wife_, Neville. She was supposed to be your one way ticket to happily-ever-after. I'm the mid-life crisis – the one you _want_, not the one you _love_." Victoire waved away his hands and continued. "These last few months have been amazing, but I always knew that I couldn't keep you forever."

Out of respect to his ex-wife Neville had never spoken of Hannah, and Victoire had never raised the subject. He hadn't imagined that she would consider any other woman, much less Hannah, a threat.

"In a way, I did love Hannah. Life was simple with her. She was kind, she was sweet, and she was there – it seemed like the right thing to do at the time. Everyone else seemed to marry someone they'd liked during our time at Hogwarts. It was... the normal thing to do." He took Victoire's hand. "But I'm _in_ love with you, and if that's abnormal, then so be it."

"Really?"

"Yes, really."

Victoire raised an eyebrow.

"_Abnormal?_" She frowned slightly, considering his choice of word. Neville was relieved when she smiled at him. "Yes, I suppose you're right. But who doesn't love a bit of scandal?"

"Your grandmother, for one." Neville had no wish to encounter Molly Weasley in the near or distant future. Once had been quite enough. "I thought mine was scary until I met her."

"Yes, well... Dominique's lucky to have me to pave the way for her, what with the way she and Teddy have been carrying on. It's only a matter of time until Maman and Dad find out, and he can't keep _anything_ from my grandmother." Victoire rolled her eyes. "If you hadn't let me drag you into the pantry then none of them would know."

"So it's _my_ fault that you were determined to risk being discovered with your old Herbology professor?" Neville had to laugh at the look she shot him.

"Of course it is; you know exactly what I'm like." Victoire stood up on her tiptoes and kissed him.

"And do you mind?"

"Mind what – that you know me so well?" She placed a finger against her mouth and pretended to concentrate. "It does spoil my reputation for being an enigma, but overall it's a good feeling."

"No. Do you mind that your family know?" For all of her bravado, Neville knew that as a Weasley, family was important to Victoire.

"A lot less than I'd thought I would. Besides, it was worth it to see the looks on their faces." Victoire giggled impishly, and although he knew that he should doubt the wisdom of her claim, he found that he didn't. Not in the slightest.

**OoOoO**

**Thanks for reading. Please review. **


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